It’s not just about penetration of the body.

I need pentration of the soul.

I need connection.

I need devotion.

I need protection.

Every inch of me needs to feel secure.

We concentrate so much on the act of sex, that we forget intimacy. The closeness of being with another person. Being able to let our guards down. To be ourselves. To be free.

We forget to look deep in our lover’s eyes. To say what we mean and mean what we say.

We forget to grab their hand in public; a simple gesture that says, “You’re mine”.

We forget to touch their arm, rub their head, place their face in our hands. Gentle touches that say, “I love you”.

We forget to be close. A simple hug at the end of the day that says, “Lay your burdens down. Rest.”

We forget to kiss them softly and deeply. Acts to say, “I want you”.

And the things we forget can be the demise of our relationships.

Don’t forget intimacy.

Enough is enough.

Have you ever found yourself going down the rabbit hole of Facebook? You’re on a friend’s page and see a tag of a mutual friend, which leads you to another page. Then on their page you see a picture of a familiar face. An ex.

The ex that broke your heart. That spent years disappointing you. Stealing time from you. Deceiving you. Until finally you couldn’t take it anymore and you left.

Even though time has passed and you haven’t thought one minute about that ex, somehow you end up lurking on their page. And you see their shiny new family. Their loving spouse. Their newborn baby. Their new house. It’s not that you want those things with them anymore, but you can’t help but wonder why they couldn’t give them to you back then.

Thoughts creep up like:

What was it about me that made them shit on me?

Was I not loving?

Was I not kind?

Did I not give them everything I had?

Was I not smart enough? Good looking enough?

I’m here to tell you that you are enough. That ex wasn’t ready for you then. Not everyone is meant for you or prepared to handle your greatness. And at that time, they weren’t.

Beside that, we all grow and change with time. The same person who was immature and treated you like crap at 20, can mature and treat another like royalty in their 30s.

So enough is enough. Stop beating yourself up over past relationships. You were, are, and always will be enough for the right person.



God gave me a story years ago. Matter of fact, he gave me several. What did I do with them? I sat on them for years. Just writing here and there. Making Instragram and Facebook posts. Writing on my blog, but never truly making or investing the time to truly explore my gift.

My mom always said, “If you don’t use the gifts God gave you, He will give them to someone else”. Even though I kept that in the back of my mind, I still was dragging my feet. I kept putting it off out of lack of knowledge, pure laziness, and honestly, fear.

What if nobody likes it?

What if nobody gets what I’m trying to do?

What if I fail?

There are so many questions that may pop up in our mind when we’re trying to do something out of the norm. Especially when it is something that requires us to step out of our comfort zone. That talent that takes us out of that 9 to 5 and requires us to work for ourselves.

I want to be testimony to you, that you are able to work on your hopes and dreams and use your talents all while working a normal job and/or taking care of a family.

This is my dream turned into reality. I give to you, “Rocking Ronnie”. The first of many children’s books that I will publish in the coming years.

Thank God for not taking my talent away due to lack of use. I’m using it right now and forever.

Rocking Ronnie is available now on Amazon in print or e-book:

Order Here

Mind Your Business.

Stop asking people (specifically women) about things that are none of your business. We have to get out of the typical conversations and questions like:

When are you getting married”?

“When are you going to have babies”?

“When are you going to have MORE babies”?

Stop asking me when or if I’m having more kids. I’m still adjusting to the first one! Jayden has just turned one and I still don’t feel like myself.

My stomach still looks like I’m 6 months pregnant. Matter of fact, I have this weird innie/outtie, cabbage patch belly button thing going on and I don’t know if it will ever go back to normal. So much for my belly ring.

None of my clothes fit. I don’t want to wear pants. Or jeans. Actually anything. Putting an outfit together now is torture.

I wear nothing but training bras because they are more comfortable and I can whip out my breasts faster for nursing and pumping. Honestly, I feel like I’ll wear them for the rest of my life.

It’s a struggle just to get my hair, nails, and eyebrows done because I feel like I can’t spare a minute on myself.

Speaking of hair, where are my edges? Why didn’t anyone tell me about postpartum hair shedding?

I was already low maintenance, but I don’t even feel like putting on the little makeup that I was wearing. You’re going to get this bare faced mom. Just be happy I washed it.

Besides trying adjust back to the old me (which may never happen), the birth of Jayden was scary in itself! Both him and myself were in danger and I had no clue until the end of the pregnancy. I am not eager to do that again. And if I don’t that’s perfectly fine.

It’s ok if someone does not want to get married.

It’s ok if someone does not want to have kids.

It’s ok if someone does not want to have MORE kids.

How about asking people if they are happy?

Or how about just mind your business.

Thanks for listening to my TED talk.

Self Care.

For the past 5 months, I have been Jayden’s mom. And for a little more than that, I’ve been Dewayne’s wife. Even before these titles, I have been know to put everyone’s needs and wants ahead of mine and forget that Sherron was here first.

When Jayden was born, I had so much mommy guilt. Mommy guilt to me is doing anything other than tending to your child. When I was on maternity leave and stayed home with Jayden, I had a hard time. If I went to the bathroom, I felt guilty. If I went to the kitchen to fix a meal, I felt guilty. Anytime I put him down and he cried, I felt guilty, because babies don’t just cry for no reason right?

Eventually, I adjusted, got a routine down, and figured Jayden out. But slowly I was forgetting who Sherron was. I started to just morph into nothing but a mom. A caretaker. The provider of milk.

No doubt, I’m tired, but if one more person tells me, “I looked tired”, I’m going to scream.

Sherron used to travel. Try different resturants. Go to the gym. Go to concerts. Now it is (for me and my husband) go to work, come home, take care of Jayden, bathe, eat, sleep, and repeat.

Luckily, my wonderful husband felt the staleness too in our routine and surprised me with a trip to Costa Rica!

Boy when I tell you I was excited! Finally, something to break the routine and a chance to just be Sherron again. But when it was time to go, here came the mommy guilt again. The night before we left, my mom literally had to pry Jayden out my arms and kick me out of the house. At the airport, I was breaking down because I felt so frazzled. Looking for nursing stations made it worse. Pumping and dumping milk that I should be giving my child made me feel sick. But I got on that plane and we made it here.

Guilt tried to creep in, but relief and relaxation pushed it out. I realized there’s nothing to feel guilty about. Even though it’s not mommy or daddy, Jayden is in good hands. And it’s only a few days, he’ll be fine.

We (moms, dads, wives, hubands, hell everyone) has to find time for self care. Whether it’s a trip, a night out, 30 minutes for exercise, or just an hour with some wine and a book, we need to find the time to take care of ourselves. Don’t look at it as neglecting others, but as making sure you are healthy (and sane) to continue to support those around you.

Now that I’m having some time away from Jayden, it has provided me with a new perspective. I can’t be the best that I can for him, if I don’t take the time to pour into me first.

So let’s practice self care all 2019.

Tell Me.

Last night when my husband and I were settling into bed, he looked over at me and said, “Thank you”. I’m literally deep under the covers, in my pjs, doing nothing, so I’m like, “For what”? He said for being a working woman, a mother, a wife…those are a lot of jobs”.

For him to know that even though the responsibilities I have are becoming natural to me, it’s still not easy. I hold these titles because I want them, not for praise, but damn if it didn’t feel good to hear a simple, “Thank you”. It made me feel good to be seen.

We have loved ones right now who wear multiple hats and they do it without compliants. We are so accustomed to them doing their “job”, that we forget that a “thank you” goes a long way.

“I see you”.

“I appreciate you”.

“I’m thankful for you”.

“I love you”.

These are things we can never say too often. If you can’t remember the last time you said it to your spouse, your children, your parents, your friends, take the time to do so. Don’t just think good thoughts and words of affirmation, tell them. Now.

Pardon my Postpartum.

Motherhood. It’s the most beautiful, scary, exciting, and frustrating experience of my entire life.

First, let me say that despite the blog title, I do not have postpartum depression. But I will say that I can see why it is a common occurance in mothers.

Being a parent is HARD.

Even with a partner, it’s hard. Now I am grateful for my baby boy. I am happy to be a mother. It’s exactly what I prayed for and my vision has come to pass. However, I must admit, while I knew I wanted to be a mother, that’s all I knew. I didn’t really think about all the breastfeeding, and diapers, and crying, and late nights. I’m literally writing this after spending a day “cluster feeding” (something I had to look up because I totally thought something was wrong with my son). Most days Jayden stays attached to me and feeds for hours without being satisfied. Then when I supplement with a bottle of formula, he’s perfectly content. It makes me question my milk supply daily and my ability to breastfeed my son. Isn’t that what I was created for? To naturally nourish my child? I remember having a breakdown one night because after feeding for an hour, I couldn’t take it anymore. I took Jayden downstairs to make a bottle. I should have put him down, but it was late and I didn’t want him to wake up my husband. As I was trying to open a bottle of formula, I knocked over the breastmilk I was going to mix it with. That little 2ozs takes 45 minutes of pumping and it was all over the floor. I literally cried over spilled milk.

Most nights I sleep with Jayden on my chest because he won’t sleep any other way. As soon as I lay him down in his bassinet, he wakes up crying. Recently, I got pee’d on at 4 in the morning because the diaper wasn’t put on just right.

Among these occurrences, I’m trying to pump in between feedings, find the time to eat myself, and at least bathe. His dad is great, as soon as he comes home from work he takes over to give me a break. Unfortunately, dad doesn’t have breasts so most of the time Jayden is looking around for me and is unhappy until he’s latched.

When I initially thought about motherhood, this is not what I focused on. I immediately thought of a family, my husband and myself raising a baby, watching him grow up and become great. Which he will, but I admit I didn’t think of everything in between.

I am guilty of “wanting the wedding and forgetting about the marriage”. Literally thinking about having a kid and not thinking about all the responsibility that comes with it. We are often so focused on a goal that we forget all the steps that it takes to reach it.

That doesn’t mean I am not going to continue to work hard at it. I have no choice. My husband and I brought a little human in the world that needs us. So I will continue to get peed on. I’ll pump when I can and breastfeed when he wants. I’ll lose sleep. I’ll sacrifice anything and everything for him because he’s my dream come true.

What Do You Do When You Can’t Do It All?

It’s been almost two weeks since Jayden was born. And he’s still in the hospital. The day I got discharged was one of the hardest days of my life. Walking down to NICU I broke down and cried because I knew I would be going home without my baby. That pain was worse then the physical pain I was already in.

Before I went home, one of the nurses sat me down and shared some words of wisdom. “Take care of yourself” she said. “I know no one can stop you from coming up here everyday to see your baby, but do not come and sit for hours and hours. Go home and get some rest and heal. There is a reason why the airlines say to put on your own oxygen mask before you help anyone else”.

I heard her, but I didn’t really. I was told the same thing by my family and girlfriends, but I just couldn’t grasp it. It’s weird but I looked at a c-section as surgery for everyone else, but not for me. It wasn’t supposed to slow me down. As amazing as my husband is and he is perfectly capable of handling everything on his own, I don’t want him to. We are supposed to take care of each other. And we are supposed to take care of our son. Together.

However, I’m currently at home. I’m supposed to be getting some rest and healing, but I’m struggling. Struggling with unnecessary guilt because my baby is not here. And I feel helpless. Everyday I visit him and I feel more guilt because I have to leave him. Over and over again.

So what do you do when you can’t do it all? Or even anything about your circumstances?

In this short time of being a mom, I’ve learned so many lessons. First, I’m not in control. The nature of my son’s birth taught me that. Second, I can’t do it all. No one can. We all need help. We all need rest and time to recharge.

The reality is, Jayden is where he needs to be in order to get better. He’s in great hands and surrounded by people who want him to be healthy enough to get home. I realize that when he’s strong enough, he’ll be discharged and back with his family. Until then, all I can do is continue to visit him daily and prepare for his arrival. As well as take the advice I was given and make sure I am able to give him 100%.

So no, I can’t do it all, but I will do what I can.


August 7th was a pretty typical Tuesday. First official week back at work with teachers and students. I had a couple of meetings, a bunch of paperwork, and lots of emails to answer, but nothing too stressful. I was anxious to get to my OBGYN appointment that afternoon so I could hear the progress on my pregnancy and the baby.

For the most part, I’ve considered myself lucky. My first pregnancy had turned out to be smooth. No morning sickness, minimal weight gain, and I was able to work all summer with no complications. It wasn’t until the last month that I was starting to get some severe back pain and I was up and down with my blood pressure readings. Still, I figured, it just comes with the territory.

Little did I know, I was a walking time bomb.

When I arrived for my appointment, the nurse took my blood pressure. Usually, we have a little chit chat, but when she got my reading, she was deathly silently. “It’s high?” I asked. She shook her head yes and said, “I’m going to take it again”. She gave it a few minutes and did it again. 185/98. Now, I’m not a doctor and I’ve never been concerned with blood pressure, so I didn’t know how severe it was, but I knew it was not good.

I was immediately sent to lay down and the nurses took my blood pressure two more times. Finally, the doctor let me know that I would have go to the emergency room. My husband was out of town for training, but luckily my mother lived 15 minutes away.

She picked me up and we headed to the hospital. I checked in and the staff began working on getting my blood pressure down. I had an IV here, a pill there, a blood pressure reading every 10 minutes. Still in my mind I was going to go home as soon as they could get it down. The worst case scenario is that I would have to be on bed rest and I could live it with that.

I guess God was laughing at my plans that day.

Doctor comes in and long story short, says the baby has to come out. It’s too dangerous for me and him to let the pregnancy progress any further. On top of that, I would need to have a C-section and be put to sleep, because enducing labor could be fatal. So much for having a normal delivery with my husband by my side telling me to “push”. So much for the short recovery time so I can spend most of my days bonding with my baby.

Instead, I was rushed to a birthing room with no time to think. And in 45 minutes my life would change.

When I woke up, I was a mom. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to embrace baby Palmer because he was rushed to NICU. 3 lbs, 11ozs. We both were still fighting for our lives and couldn’t see each other until the next day. It was the longest day of my life. But when I finally saw him, nothing else mattered.

I think we all have this perfect picture painted for ourselves involving at least one scenario. Whether its planning a dream wedding, landing the perfect job, or outlining plans for a family, we all have a vision. I didn’t know exactly how this pregnancy would go, but believe me, I didn’t come close to thinking it would unfold the way it did. However, the outcome is the same.

Jayden Ronald Palmer is here. 8/7/18. 10:36 pm. And his arrival was anything but boring.

Mom and Dad.

So finally I’m going to be a mommy. After all these years of teaching and taking care of everyone else’s children, I’m finally going to have one of my own. A little boy!

I can’t wait to see the traits he gets from me and his dad. When I think about my own parents, I believe I got the best parts of them.

My mom is a lover of all people. She has strong faith and belief that never waivers. She is one that you can call on at any time of the night and she will throw on her clothes and rush to your aid if she’s needed. And even when she’s not needed.

My dad is a hardworker. He grew up in a household where ‘B’s were unacceptable and boy did it pay off. He’s well educated and successsful. He’s a provider and has secured the future of not only himself, but his family that he loves so deeply.

I am so blessed to have and know them both. All of those traits are instilled in me. That makes me wonder what traits will my own child get from me and his father?

Mom (me) not only has traits that she’s gotten from her parents, but she’s an optimist. She believes everything happens for a reason, good or bad. She is a believer in love and knows that it can conquer all things.

Dad is more practical. There is black and there is white. There are problems and solutions. He’s organized and neat. Despises confusion and conflict. He will do anything for you, within reason of course. He looks before he leaps which keeps the people he loves from jumping off cliffs impulsively (me in particular).

We both balance each other. My hope is that all the things we learned from our grandparents and parents and the experiences that made who we are will be embraced by this child that we created together.

How scary and exciting it is to be a parent.

I am thankful for all those who came before me. Especially my own parents. Now I will know first hand the sacrifices and dedication it takes to raise the little life that you brought into the world.

Love you mom and dad.